Creature Features
by Karalora
Summary: Something has escaped from Austria's lab, and he'll stop at nothing to recover it! Now he's roped three unsuspecting fellow nations into the hunt, and if they don't succeed they might never be the same again!
1. Monster MashUp

_A/N: In the note for "How to Keep Friends," Humon refers to Austria as a "mad scientist." But the events of the strip didn't really bear that out, and he hasn't appeared since. I don't know about you, but that sounds like perfect fanfic fodder to me!_

* * *

Part 1: Monster Mash-Up

First, a little background.

Norway and Sweden are Denmark's best and second-best friends, respectively, but there are some things he just won't do with them. Like camping. In the woods. Where there are pine trees and butterflies and…and chupacabras, probably. He would in fact slightly prefer to spend the weekend squeezing lemon wedges into his eyes. So when they had the sheer _front_ to invite him along, he gave them a few choice words and stormed back into his house to sulk.

Because you have to have your priorities in order.

Roughly ten minutes after they shrugged and left, the first little spike of loneliness stabbed him in the heart. He downed a beer and called the Netherlands, who was sometimes his third-best friend and sometimes his fourth-best, depending on his mood.

"'Sup?" came the familiar drawl.

"Wanna hang out? Norway and Sweden left me to go frolic with the chupacabras again."

There was a pause, just slightly too long to be that of normal puzzlement. "Are you high?" said theNetherlands.

"What? Of course not. I only get high when I'm with you. So can I come over?"

"To my place? Nah, I'm not at home. I'm on my way to Germany's."

That clinched it-Germany was the friend that the Netherlands kept switching places with in the ranking. "Sweet! I'll join you."

"You know the drill. Bring a case."

That was how it came to pass that Denmark and the Netherlands went to spend the day drinking at Germany's house. It was almost like the set-up to a joke about national stereotypes.

Oh, wait…

About a beer and a half into the visit, Denmark forgot all about feeling betrayed by his fellow Scandinavians. He had other friends, and they had booze. Story of his life, pretty much. They sprawled around Germany's patio table and passed bottles to each other and clinked them and sang rounds of "Ein Prosit" whenever they lost track of the conversation, which happened an average of every twenty minutes.

Then the bushes rustled in a particularly attention-grabbing way, and that was the beginning of the end.

The three of them shifted in their chairs to stare unsteadily at the foliage. A head—blond, mustachioed, and wearing a pair of goggles like something out of one of the lesser-known Edgar Rice Burroughs novels—rose out of Germany's privets. The head's owner pulled out an electronic recording device and muttered a few brief sentences into it. They would have been largely incomprehensible even to someone who was perfectly sober and contained the names of more Greek letters than was probably healthy for anyone other than a Greek kindergarten teacher.

The head then started to lower again, but Germany—who was better than many at functioning while tipsy, especially when annoyed—reached over to grab the hair and drag the intruder out.

"Austria," he said, "I've told you not to screw around in my garden."

The mad scientist of Europe dusted himself off and peeled off the goggles. "Interesting choice of words there, Germany," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "'Screw.' You know what Dr. Freud would say."

"Dr. Freud wouldn't even admit to his own oral fixation," said Germany. "What are you doing here?"

Denmark burst into a fit of giggles. "You said 'oral.'"

"Ah, Denmark," said Austria. "How I long for the day I can finally introduce your skull to my calipers. And the Netherlands is here too, I see. This must be my lucky day!"

"Forget it," said the Netherlands. "We're here to have a good time, not to let you stick electrodes in our brains."

"You know, it's funny you should mention that, because if you put it in just the right place an electrode can…but I'm getting off the subject. Did you three happen to see…something unusual not too long ago? Did an unfamiliar animal, perhaps, come this way?"

"Oh, Jesus," Germany muttered, rubbing his temples. "What escaped this time?"

"This might take a few minutes to explain," said Austria. "Let me get you some new beers."

While they tucked into the fresh drinks, Austria showed them a photo of his newest pet project. It looked like someone had randomly selected 50 members of the animal kingdom, chucked their DNA into a blender and hit Puree, injected the results into a zygotic nucleus, let it grow to infancy, described it to Tim Burton while he was doodling concept art for his new movie, and then showed the drawing to the Pokémon fans on deviantART and let them indulge their own imaginations.

"Ew, what _is_ that?" said Denmark.

"I call him Fritz," said Austria. "He's a work in progress, but once he's finished he'll contain enough gene sequences to express the genome of any animal in the world! Think of the possibilities!"

"Oh, I get it," said the Netherlands, twitching his nose in distaste. "It's a crime against nature."

Austria pouted. "That's a very short-sighted view. The point is, Fritz got out and I'm not having much luck tracking him. I could use a little help."

"I sincerely hope you find it," said Germany. "But you'll have to look somewhere else. The three of us are taking the day off."

"Are you sure I can't change your minds?" said Austria.

"Yes," they chorused.

"Are you positive?"

"_Yes._"

"Even if I tell you what I put in your beer?"

"Ye—wait, what?" said Denmark.

Germany dropped his bottle so that he would have both hands free to grab Austria by the shirt. "What—did—you—DO?" he demanded, too alarmed to be properly angry.

"I guarantee you, it's perfectly harmless," said Austria.

Denmark's hair quivered slightly as two strands, thicker and darker than the rest, stood upright and coiled up at the ends.

"Whoa!" said the Netherlands, gawking and pointing.

"Oh, good, it's already taking effect," said Austria. He whipped out a tiny digital camera and snapped a picture.

Denmark reached up to feel the protrusions. "What the hell?" he said. "What's happening to me? What…_how come I can smell my fingers_?"

"They're antennae," Austria explained as if it were no big deal. "This is promising!"

"Wait…" said Germany. "Antennae as in bug feelers? What did you give us, some kind of bug extract?" Denmark made a squeal of horror.

"Not exactly," said Austria. "Oh, look at your hands! Wonderful!"

The backs of Germany's hands were sprouting blackish fuzz. Now it was his turn to squeal. "I'm turning into the Wolfman!"

Austria slipped the goggles back on and peered more closely at his neighbor's hands. "No, we can safely rule out anything in the canine family. It's not fur."

"Then what is it?"

"Pinfeathers. The barbules show up under magnification." He took more pictures.

The Netherlands started inspecting himself suspiciously. Denmark carried on whimpering and pressing his new appendages down into his hair in the vain hope that they would eventually stop springing back out.

"I slipped you all a little essence of Fritz," Austria said conversationally, "and now you're expressing different parts of his genome."

"I thought you said it was perfectly harmless!" Germany screeched, redoubling his grip on Austria's shirt. The feathers were already growing in larger and thicker and spreading up his arms, and an uncomfortable prickle at the base of his spine suggested a tail was on its way.

"You're not in any pain, are you?"

"That's not the point!"

"Well, if this is how you plan to manipulate us into helping you, forget it! Give us the antidote or you'll be sorry!" Denmark demanded.

"There is no antidote…yet," Austria said smugly. "Can you guess what I need in order to make it? It's really quite brilliant."

"Fritz?" guessed the Netherlands. His consonants came out a little thick and he immediately began feeling his teeth.

"DING DING DING!" Austria whooped. "So really, you have no choice but to help me. To be honest, I'm not sure I _could_ have caught him without the animal abilities you'll all develop as the transformations progress. So it all works out!"

"Progress?" Denmark repeated. "You mean this is going to get _worse_?"

"Of course not!" said Austria. There was an expectant pause. "It's going to get _better_!" He flashed them all a toothpaste-ad grin.

With a sustained wail, Denmark flung his arms in the air and ran away.

"Denmark, wait!" said the Netherlands, slurring around his rapidly enlarging incisors. His ears were growing too, and fine fur was coming in all over his body.

Austria regarded the fleeing country through his goggles. "I don't think he'll go far. He'll probably stop at the flowerbeds out front."

"Let's just get this over with," said Germany. "And maybe we should think positive. If I'm turning into a bird I'll at least be able to fly, right?"

"That's the spirit!" said Austria.

They went around the house and found Denmark...hovering…over Germany's wisterias. There was really no other word for what he was doing—he bent close to them, inhaling deeply with a blissful expression while his antennae caressed the petals, and overall seeming that if he picked up his feet he would drift away on the breeze. The only missing element was a literal set of wings, and those would probably be along sooner or later.

The antennae thing was kind of creepy, but he didn't seem to realize he was doing it. Otherwise he would have been freaking out all over again.

"Hey, Denmark. You doing all right?" said the Netherlands, idly scratching behind one elongated ear. (His transformation was the farthest along, and his rabbit features were plainly obvious…especially with the fetching symmetrical markings on his face. _Dutch_ markings, naturally. That might have been why he was taking it so well.)

"I don't know why, but I'm finding this very calming," Denmark murmured. "Pretty, pretty flowers…is anyone else getting hungry?"

"I could eat," said the Netherlands. "Is there a good salad bar around here?"

"No time for that, boys!" said Austria excitedly, fiddling with his goggles. "I've just picked up Fritz's chemical signature! He was here not too long ago! If we hurry, then with any luck you can be back to normal by dinnertime!"

"Okay," said Germany. "Okay. We can handle this. Which way did it go?"

"That's where you fellows come in." He turned to Denmark and clapped his hands imperiously. "Bug Boy! Come over here and apply those feelers to something useful!"

Denmark ambled over, but he didn't look in a cooperating mood. "Let's get a few things straight, Professor Freakshow. Number one: my name is _not_ Bug Boy. Number two: the _only_ reason I am doing this is because we need that little monster in order to be fixed up. You don't get to order me around like a servant. Are we clear?"

"Mm-hmm," Austria said distractedly, adjusting the goggles some more. "All right, I think this spot will give us the best indication of which way Fritz went. Get that magnificent sensory array of yours down to the ground and show us some natural magic!"

Denmark rolled his eyes, but he lowered himself to hands and knees and began…well, sniffing with the antennae. "Guys, I cannot _begin_ to tell you how weird this feels," he said.

"Good!" said Austria. "If it felt normal, you'd still be too human for it to work."

"Can we not keep bringing that up?" Denmark said. "I don't know about this…how am I supposed to pick out a direction? I've never tracked anything by scent before. And this is making my back itch really bad." He shifted position and started scratching.

"It was worth a try," said Austria. "We can explore the immediate area for clues and try again once you're further along."

"I said to stop bringing that up!"

"So, Germany…is there anything near here that might be attractive to a brand-new life form testing taking itself for a test drive?"

"Uh…there's a park."

"That's as good a place as any to start."

There was a brief sound of tearing fabric. "Dammit! I ripped my shirt!" Denmark complained.

"Did you at least get the itch?" said the Netherlands.

"I think so. I…" Denmark trailed off, eyes widening. Something was growing out of his back, right through the tear in the knit. He reached back over his shoulders to feel, and his face went white and he began to tremble like an aspen leaf in the breeze.

If they were supposed to be wings, they weren't very good at it. The immediate impression was that his shirt was giving birth to another shirt, with the second shirt in the usual condition for a minutes-old newborn. Germany and the Netherlands did a double-take of mild disgust, but it didn't last—the damp reddish wad continued to swell and de-wrinkle, just like in those time-lapse videos people post on YouTube.

"It's one of the miracles of nature," said the Netherlands, wiping away a tear. Austria took another photo.

Denmark rose to his knees, flapped his brand new Dannebrog-patterned butterfly wings once, and began to scream at the top of his lungs…

…unless they were spiracles.

To Be Continued…


	2. Animal Instincts

Creature Features

Part 2: Animal Instincts

It just went to show that there was no practical upper limit to the amount of shit Denmark could flip in a crisis. Granted, the situation _was_ pretty freaky…but maybe it didn't _quite_ warrant him hugging his knees and rocking back and forth and alternately screaming, whimpering, and sobbing.

Germany paced—awkwardly, since he could feel his feet metamorphosing inside his shoes and the flight feathers sprouting along his arms were throwing off his balance. Austria rattled off more Greek letter-laden sentence fragments into his recording device. The Netherlands tried every trick he knew to calm Denmark down, which is to say he tried offering him a joint and then resorted to tense pleading when that failed.

"Come on, man, get a grip! You already knew you were turning into a bug when the antennae came out; at least you're turning into a _pretty_ bug!"

"_You don't get it!_" Denmark shrieked. "_I missed out on spending the day with Norway in order to __**avoid**__ horrible, evil, soul-stealing bu-bu-butterflies!_"

"I thought you said they were chupacabras."

"_Shut up!_"

"You'll be okay! We'll all be okay!"

"_That's easy for you to say! You're a pet bunny rabbit!_"

"Well, I got nothin' else," said the Netherlands, moving away from the hysterical Scandinavian. "Germany, you're up."

Germany sighed, sized up the situation, and walked away to the back of the house, somewhat jerkily. He returned with an unopened Carlsberg and dangled it in front of Denmark's face. The other nation yelped and snatched it, popped off the cap with a practiced thumbnail flick, and began sucking down the brew. The bottle was emptied in 3.71240976 seconds by Austria's watch, at which point Denmark rolled over on his side, hugging it with one arm, and stuck his other thumb in his mouth. Germany counted to eight, _sotto voce_, and then crouched. He promptly fell over because of the aforementioned balance issues, but he recovered.

"Denmark. Listen to me. This is all going to work out. We just need to find that little monster and Austria will fix us."

Denmark mumbled something around his thumb.

"What was that?"

_Pop._ "I wish Norway was here to hold me. I'd perch on his finger, and then he'd find me a nice flower to—_no! I mustn't give in to the demonic creature taking over my body!_"

"It's okay," said Germany. "You wouldn't want him to see you like this, would you? Let's go hunt down Austria's stupid project and get back to normal before those guys come back from their trip, all right?"

"Do you…do you think we _can_?"

The flicker of hope was a good sign. "Oh, definitely," said Germany. "But not if we just sit here."

Denmark became very quiet for a moment. Then he pushed himself back up into a sitting position, took a moment to smooth his hair (including the antennae), and pretended nothing had happened.

"Let's go," he said.

The Netherlands made an appreciative chuckle. "That was _excellent_, Germany. How'd you do it?"

Germany didn't answer. He didn't even appear to have heard the question. His attention was suddenly focused, laser-like, on something in the distance. His house faced onto the mouth of an alley that ran straight for about seventy meters, and his gaze was fixed on the far end. He slowly turned his head from side to side without changing the direction of his stare, so that his head almost appeared to be swiveling around his eyeballs.

"Uh…Germany?" said the Netherlands. "You're kinda creeping me out."

"It _is_ Fritz!" Germany said, breaking into a hopping sort of run.

The Netherlands squeaked in alarm and dove into the nearest hedge.

Germany began flapping his arms as he charged down the alley, operating more-or-less on autopilot. His hops grew deeper, and then in a glorious moment, he took to the air and became a rapidly receding missile.

Denmark squinted toward the end of the alley. "I don't see anything."

"Well, you wouldn't," said Austria as he pulled a leash and a bag of treats out of his pocket. "But the keenest eyesight in the animal kingdom is found in birds. Come on, you two! I'll need all the help I can get to catch Fritz!" He ran off.

The Netherlands peeked out of the hedge, his nose quivering. "That was weird. I could have sworn there was a predator here a second ago."

"Don't let Germany hear you say that; it would break his heart," said Denmark.

They caught up to said nation quickly. He had made it only about half the length of the alley before hitting an air pocket, spinning out of control, and becoming acquainted with a set of trash cans. Austria had just kept on running without so much as a backward glance.

"Jeez, what a mess," said Denmark. "Germany, are you okay?"

Germany groaned from underneath yesterday's potato peelings. After a few false starts, he levered himself into something approaching an upright position. "That hurt a little more than it needed to," he said, wobbling.

"You were moving pretty fast," said Denmark.

"And just _look_ at my feathers! It's going to take ages to get them in order!" He begin nibbling delicately at the crumpled vanes.

"Think you can, um, preen and walk at the same time?" said the Netherlands. "Austria and Fritz are getting farther away."

"Let me tell you, Austria is really starting to piss me off," said Germany. "Guys, you gotta promise me something. _Don't_ let me get angry. I'm begging you!"

"Whoa, take it easy," said the Netherlands. "Wanna toke?"

"Not a good time, Netherlands. We have to figure out where those two went."

They followed the alley to its other end and looked around. There was no sign of either the creature or its creator…or at least no visible sign. Suddenly, Denmark's antennae quivered, and his head whipped to the left.

"They went that way," he said.

"Hey, it worked this time!" said the Netherlands. "Way to go, Denmark!"

"It looks like Fritz is heading for the park, all right," said Germany. "I hope we can catch up to him before he gets there. There are way too many places he can hide there."

"Don't worry, Germany," said the Netherlands. "With your eyes, my ears, and Denmark's…um…nose-fingers…I bet we can find him anywhere he goes!"

Denmark scowled. "_Nose-fingers?_ Really, Netherlands?"

The Netherlands just shrugged…and then, when his shoulders dropped, so did the rest of him, and he continued on all fours, bounding. The other two traded a look, but said nothing.

By and by, they ran into Austria. He actually wasn't that hard to locate—they just followed the sound of muttered Greek letters. He was near the entrance to the aforementioned park, babbling into his recorder.

"What happened?" said Germany. "Don't tell us you lost him!"

Austria rambled on in Scientific for a few more minutes before acknowledging their presence. "Of course not, don't be silly," he said, shutting off the recorder. "I know right where Fritz is. He's in there!" He pointed through the park gates.

"What happened to your hand?" said Germany.

"Oh, this?" said Austria, waving the reddened, swelling appendage. "Fritz bit me. I'll be able to cure it once the secondary symptoms develop so I know which venom sacs he used."

"You seem awfully calm about it," said the Netherlands.

"You're one to talk," said Austria. "Or haven't you noticed you're scratching your ear with your foot?"

"Shut it, Rodgers and Hammer Film," said Germany. "You are in _no_ position to complain about any weird things we do while we're like this."

"Who's complaining? I find it fascinating. I plan to write a detailed report about it."

"What a coincidence. So do I. How do you think King EU will react? I'm pretty sure there's a clause in the charter that specifically prohibits experimenting on other member-nations without their full free and informed consent."

Austria went ahead without missing a beat. "But I can save that for later. For now, we need to develop our plan of action! Where's Denmark?"

Germany did a double-take, sudden enough to send the Netherlands springing behind a mailbox in fright. "He was just here! How could he wander off so fast?"

"You can't expect a butterfly to sit still for long on a nice sunny day like this," said Austria. "Anyway, here he comes."

He must have visited a vending machine, because he had an armload of soda bottles and was slurping noisily from one of them. "Thorry, guyth," he said with barely a pause. "I thuddenly thtarted craving thugar."

"That's cute," said the Netherlands. "Where did you get a pink bendy straw?"

Denmark lowered the bottle. The "straw" didn't move. "What thtraw?"

The truth of the matter dawned on the whole group pretty much simultaneously. Austria whipped out his camera, Denmark dropped the sodas in order to wail and claw at his mouth in horror, and Germany and the Netherlands moved in to keep him from hurting himself.

"I can't tell you how pleased I am that your transformations are progressing so smoothly," said Austria. "Especially yours, Denmark—I was worried that an inter-phylum transition would be, well, traumatic."

Denmark spluttered in outrage. "Who thayth I'm _not_ thraumatized? Look at me! _My thongue ith a bendthy thtraw!_"

"And you can still talk! That's something to be pleased about, isn't it?"

"Tho how muth further ith thith going to go? I'm drinking thoda like it wath water, Netherlandth ith jumping at hith own thadow, and Germany'th growing a beak!"

"I _am_?" said Germany, his wing-hands flying to his face. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Sorry," said the Netherlands. "I assumed you knew. It's your beak, after all."

"Oh, good!" said Austria. "Pretty soon we should be able to tell what kind of bird we're getting."

"Don't thanthe the thubject!" said Denmark. "What are we thuppothed to do about all thethe weird thingth happening to uth?"

"Firtht of all…see, now you've got me doing it. _First_ of all," said Austria, "don't have any more panic attacks. Here." He offered Denmark one of the dropped soda bottles. "Have some more nectar and you'll feel better."

"It'th _not_ nectar," Denmark said with a frown. "It'th cola."

"It's still sugar water," said Austria. "As far as your new DNA fragments are concerned, that's food. Once you're not hungry anymore and you manage to calm down, you'll regain control over your tongue."

"If you thay tho," said Denmark, carefully twisting the cap off the bottle.

"So what about that plan of action?" said Germany, slightly muffled since he was still self-consciously covering his face.

"I was just getting to that," said Austria. "Now then! Fritz is somewhere in that park. Between the three of you, you should have more than enough ability to locate him and then keep him from escaping long enough for me to secure him. But just in case…try these." He handed out three large hoop nets on long handles.

"Ha ha, very fun—" Denmark groaned, but that was as far as he got before the Netherlands mischievously plopped one over his head. "_Netherlandth! Whath the hell?_"

"Sorry. I couldn't resist!"

"Try harder nexth time, okay?"

"Chill out, man, it was just a joke."

"Are they always like this?" Austria said conversationally to Germany while Denmark and the Netherlands continued their pointless tiff.

"Actually, no," said Germany. "Usually, they pick on _me_. Have I ever told you about 'surprise yaoi?'"

"No, you _haven't_!" said Austria with a gleam in his eye that Germany had come to recognize.

"When this is all over…remind me to blow you off completely." He felt his face heat up under the feathers. "I mean—!"

"Oh, Dr. Freud would have a _field day_ with you."

It took a few more minutes for Denmark and the Netherlands to get over their squabble, and for Denmark to polish off a couple of the sodas and roll his tongue back into his mouth. "Tethting…_testing_…" he said, finding a way to hold it that allowed him to speak normally. "Testing… Oh, thank _God_. Okay, let's do this. What's the plan?"

"Yes! The plan!" said Austria. "Here's what you boys have to do. Step One: Find Fritz. Step Two: Keep him busy until I can get there. Step Three: …I guess there is no Step Three for you."

"How exactly are we supposed to find him?" said Germany as the party entered the park.

"Beats me. You're the ones with all the superhuman senses."

"Actually, never mind, I think I know where to start," said Germany. "Come on, guys."

"Yes…" said Austria as the trio headed off. "_Go forth, my minions! MWAHAHAHAHA!_"

This sort of thing is why Germany never invites him to the drinking parties.

To Be Continued…

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_A/N: I don't normally explain my obscure references, but "Rodgers and Hammer Film" probably won't yield readily to Google. Rodgers and Hammerstein are of course the musical-writing duo who created _The Sound of Music_, and Hammer Film Productions is the studio that produced a long string of formulaic Gothic monster movies in the 50s, including a whole set of Frankenstein stories. Put them together and you get a cheery Austrian mad scientist._


	3. Flora & Fauna

Creature Features

Part 3: Flora & Fauna

It was a _nice_ park. The concrete entry plaza transitioned to branching flagstone paths that meandered through the rolling, landscaped grounds. Clusters of shade trees mimicked natural groves, and portions of the paths were lined with box hedges.

"This place is pretty," said the Netherlands as they moved toward the heart of the park. "How come you never took us here before, Germany?"

"Because whenever you guys come over, we're all plastered within fifteen minutes."

"Oh yeah, huh."

"So where are we going?" said Denmark with an odd note of unease in his voice.

"There's a small botanical garden further along this path," Germany explained. "Well, I say garden. It's more of a patch overrun with wildflowers and forest shrubs. I try to go easy on the cultivation so the plants can develop naturally."

"Sounds like fun," said the Netherlands.

"Maybe," Germany sighed. "There are a zillion ways for Fritz to hide in there. But my eyesight keeps improving, plus you guys have your senses, so I think we still have the edge. Speaking of which…Denmark, what do your antennae say? Has he been this way?"

"How should I know?" said Denmark. "I have no idea what Fritz smells like. I was homing in on Austria before."

"Fair enough," said Germany. "We'll just have to do the best we can." He frowned. "No, wait…we have to _succeed_. Failure is not an option."

"Don't say that," said Denmark. "On TV, they alwaysth thay that right before—oh, _great_, now my thongue is tripping out again."

"Take it easy, man," said the Netherlands. "We're in the home stretch. We'll be fully human and getting blitzed again by dinnertime."

They followed the path over a neatly manicured hillock, and the botanical garden spread out before them, covering roughly a third of a hectare and looking from a distance like an explosion in a crayon factory. Denmark, who had only just gotten his tongue under control again, wobbled on his feet. "Oh, God…" he mumbled.

"You're okay. They're just flowers," said the Netherlands.

"But they're so _bright_! And they're _wild_flowers! Half of me wants to run away screaming and the other half wants to dive right in and pollinate!" The last bit may or may not have been a euphemism.

"Whichever one you decide on, you'll get your chance once we catch Fritz," said Germany.

"Is he in there?" said the Netherlands.

"I'm still looking. Let's keep moving closer. It's hard picking out anything against a background like that."

They reached the patch and waded in along one of the dirt trails that wound through it.

"Do you think Fritz has camouflage?" said the Netherlands.

"You just had to raise that possibility, didn't you?" said Germany.

"Hey, Germany," said Denmark, "I thought you said these were wildflowers."

"They are."

"No way…those polka dots have to be bred in."

"What polka dots?"

Denmark picked something along the lines of a daisy. It was yellow and…no, that was it. Just yellow. "See? All over! I'm not saying I don't like it; it's actually really pretty."

The Netherlands snickered. "Wow, Denmark, what are you _on_? Even I never hallucinate polka-dotted flowers."

"I think I know what's going on," said Germany. "You're seeing in the ultraviolet. You can see colors we can't make out."

"Wait!" Denmark squeaked. "You mean my _eyes_ are changing? Are they turning into that weird…bulgey…cluster…thing?"

"No, they still look the same," said the Netherlands.

"Well, that's good…but what next? Am I suddenly going to get the urge to…to take off and do a mating dance? Actually…that wouldn't be so bad. Especially if it works!"

"Hey, you know what?" the Netherlands continued. "I bet you can see through Fritz's camouflage! We're still assuming he has camouflage, right?"

"I think it would be irresponsible not to," said Germany. "The real question is whether or not he's anywhere near here. I'd forgotten just how overgrown I let this place get. It's going to take forever to search." He made a sudden noise of frustration and flung his wings skyward.

The Netherlands, predictably, reacted by darting into a large bush. He huddled in the foliage, waiting for his heart rate to come back down and gradually coming to feel rather foolish. Just before he made up his mind to leave the hiding place, he got the distinct impression that he wasn't alone. His ears twitched. He glanced to one side.

It took a second for him to recognize Fritz from the picture. This was because the lab experiment was bent in an uncomfortable-looking posture, licking his…whatever it was he was licking. The Netherlands wasn't about to make any assumptions about his anatomy.

"Aah!" he shouted, rendered inarticulate with surprise. Fritz sprang into action, disappearing into a hole in the ground.

Upon hearing their friend's shout, Denmark and Germany plunged into the bush and found him busily digging, widening the burrow and pressing himself into it as he went.

"Netherlands…?" said Denmark.

"Fritz went down here!" came the muffled reply. "He'll probably try to slip out the back way! Find where it is and grab him!"

"Where should we look?" said Germany.

The Netherlands extricated himself, seemingly unconcerned about the splotches of clinging dirt. "I'll find out for you!" He lifted one foot and stomped the ground, then listened keenly. He moved a few hops away and stomped again, and repeated this process a couple times. "There should be one that way and another one over there! I'll keep digging this one out!"

Denmark and Germany nodded once to each other and split up. They found the other burrow exits fairly quickly, now that they knew what to look for. Fritz first popped up near Germany, who took a swipe with his net only to discover that his fingers no longer worked properly. The net went tumbling away, and Fritz easily escaped back down the burrow.

"Denmark! Heads up!" Germany called.

Denmark squared himself at the other tunnel mouth, preparing for Fritz's arrival…but the damn thing was smarter than they thought. He popped his head out just long enough to shriek and erect some kind of alarming neck-frill, throwing Denmark well off his game. Fritz vanished again.

"Guys, guys!" the Netherlands called, pausing in his excavation. "Try _blocking_ the exits! Find some big rocks or something!"

"Big rock, got it!" said Germany. As it happened, there was one within line-of-sight, and fortunately his reduced manual dexterity didn't stop him yanking and shoving. Denmark didn't find any rocks, so he kicked at the edge of the hole to collapse it.

It was all rendered irrelevant when Fritz burst from the ground through a brand-new opening, spinning like a drill bit, and scrambled away amid the wildflowers.

"Oh, come _on_!" said Germany.

"Maybe one of us should go get Austria," Denmark said.

"I'll do it!" the Netherlands offered. Without waiting for a response, he took off running, and his cackle of glee suggested that he had been waiting all day to do it. Small wonder, since within a few seconds he was moving at near-highway speeds. Rabbits are _fast_.

"He's got the right idea," said Germany. "Denmark, try to drive Fritz to where I can see him from above. It's time we all started _using_ our advantages." With a few brusque movements, he kicked his shoes off, revealing yellow talons, and leapt into the air. It was a warm day, and he gained altitude quickly, riding updrafts.

Denmark suddenly realized that he was basically alone in the garden. With Fritz. He felt the hair rise on the back of his neck…which was comforting in a way, since it meant he still _had_ hair, and mammalian responses to potential danger. It made him feel better about willingly embracing his ultraviolet vision in order to track the little monster. He could pretend it was more of a comic-book superpower. Squaring his shoulders and tucking his wings back, he followed Fritz into the flowers.

Objectively, it was nothing special. From Denmark's own unique viewpoint, it was an act of tremendous courage. The blooms grew hip-deep on him, stems clustering thickly enough to make moving through them an exercise in suppressing the notion that they were about to grab his legs. He wasn't sure if it made things better or worse that part of his brain insisted they were actually brightly patterned snack stands.

It did make it dead easy for him to notice Fritz, however—the hybrid creature reflected no ultraviolet light at all and stood out amid the flowers like a sunspot. "Aha!" Denmark shouted, making a lunge for him. Fritz hissed and lashed out with a set of impressive claws, slashing Denmark's net to rags, then dashed away. "Oh, no you don't…" Denmark growled, giving chase.

An instant later, it occurred to him that he was trying to get _closer_ to something with claws like that. (And a neck-frill.) He skidded to a stop as all the little and big horrors started to pile up on him—he was expected to chase down a cat-sized science lab nightmare and he was _surrounded_ by _wildflowers_ and _oh god he was still turning into a __**butterfly**_!

"_Germany!_" he yelled to the sky. "_I think I'm going to freak out!_"

"No! Don't do that!" Germany replied. His voice sounded much more piercing coming from above. "Definitely don't do that! You gotta keep it together!"

"_I know, but how?_"

"Uh…look, it's really hard for me to talk and soar at the same time! Figure something out!"

For a moment, Denmark avoided panicking by racking his brain for a way to avoid panicking. Fortunately, as that started to lose effectiveness, the foliage rustled and Fritz made another appearance. He might have subtly changed shape in the meantime; it was hard to tell. The Scandinavian and the science experiment locked eyes for a split second—long enough for Denmark to make a decision.

He clamped his eyes shut, screamed, and charged.

Fritz, like any self-respecting critter, instantly reversed gears, paws scrabbling on the ground as he wheeled about and ran away from the shrieking maniac barreling toward him. Denmark peeked between his eyelids, noted with pride that what must technically be referred to as his plan was working, and kept going.

He drove Fritz out of the garden just as the Netherlands and Austria were coming over the crest of the hill. An instant later, Germany plunged out of the sky, talons spread.

The instant after _that_, naturally, they all crashed into each other. Over the next few minutes, the dust gradually rolled away from a tangled heap of groaning bodies…but the most important thing was that Germany, near the middle of the pile, had his feet wrapped tight around Fritz.

"_Gotcha!_" he squawked. "I think. Uh…can anyone see what I'm holding?"

The heap shuffled a bit. "That's Austria's little freak, all right," said the Netherlands.

"Yay! We did it!" Austria chirped, waving his arms as best he could with everyone lying on top of him.

Gradually they disentangled themselves. Fritz squirmed mightily, but Germany's grip was too strong. Austria began assembling a mysterious machine, something like an MRI machine crossed with an electric mixer. "Behold!" he shouted. "This will allow me to reverse-engineer the right anti-mutagen serums for you fellows from the corresponding segments of Fritz's genome! Assistant! (That's you, Germany.) Place the subject in the chamber!" Hopping awkwardly on one foot while clutching Fritz with the other, Germany made his way to the strange device and dropped the creature inside. "Excellent! Now to extract the anti-sequences for essences of…let me check my notes here...domestic rabbit, common red butterfly, and…aha! Black eagle!"

"_What?_" Germany gasped through what was undeniably a fierce hooked bill.

"Black eagle," said Austria. "And quite a handsome specimen too. Hadn't you realized it yet?"

"But-but-but—no! All that's supposed to be behind me!"

"Take it easy, man, it's just your national symbolic animal," said the Netherlands. "Besides, how else could you have held on to Fritz so well?"

"Shut up shut up shut up!" Germany moaned, huddling on the ground and cloaking himself with his wings.

"No point in freaking out about it now," said Denmark. "Austria is about to change us all back."

"That's not the point! Out of all the animals lurking in that _thing's_ DNA, why is _this_ the one I turn into? It must be a sign! It's still in my soul! _Lurking!_"

"Uh-oh, he's getting philosophical," said the Netherlands. "And he said 'lurking' twice." He hopped over to slap Germany on the back in a chummy fashion. "Don't worry about it, Germany. Nobody's judging you. Once we're all back to normal, I'll take you out to dinner. We can go halvesies on a super-duper-appetizer platter!"

Germany exploded out of his feathery cocoon, knocking the Netherlands head over fluffy tail. His eyes had turned hard and yellow. "I am feeling hungry, now that you mention it…" he said. "Hey, Netherlands, guess what?"

"What?"

"_Surprise carnivory!_" With that, he pounced.

The Netherlands screamed (did you know rabbits can scream? Well, they can. It's pretty awful) and kicked, landing a hit square on Germany's chin. He bolted, turning into a streak against the grassy ground. Germany shook his head, collected himself, and flew after his prey.

Denmark watched it all with his mouth hanging open in shock. He couldn't even find proper thoughts for what he had just witnessed, let alone words.

Austria was perturbed also. He took out his recording device. "New heading: Unforeseen Consequences."

To Be Continued…

* * *

_A/N: I think my biggest challenge writing this story has been characterizing Germany. We just don't have much of an idea of what he's like outside of flirting with Sister Japan and suffering from Nazi guilt. Based on how Germans are often viewed here in the States, I've made him level-headed, a little stodgy, and a little bossy—almost like a diluted version of Sweden. Of course, now the Nazi guilt has come into play also…_


	4. Beastly Behavior

Creature Features

Part 4: Beastly Behavior

It only took Denmark a few minutes to find his tongue. It was pretty hard to miss when it was spontaneously uncurling again.

"Tho _now_ what?" he demanded of Austria. "Whath the hell ith going on with Germany? Authtria! Thtop talking to that thing and _lithen_ to me!"

Austria raised one finger in the internationally recognized just-a-moment gesture and finished his paragraph. Then he put the recorder away. "Now, what were you saying?"

"What do you _think_ I'm thaying? Why the hell ith Germany thuddenly acting all evil?"

"He is _not_ acting evil! Nature's creatures are never _evil_! He's just hungry! And the neurological effects of the transformation combined with the psychological stress of being confronted by potentially nationalistic imagery have him confused!"

Denmark blinked. He glanced left and right. He blinked again.

"Okay. I'm going to pretend I underthtood any of that. But what do we _do_ about it?"

"Who's _we_?" said Austria, turning back to the device that held a much happier-looking Fritz and punching buttons. "I don't think there's very much _I_ can do about it. What am I supposed to do, chase them down on my pokey human legs? I don't think so."

"Tho you're thuggethting I—" Denmark began. He stopped, made an exasperated sound, and chugged another soda in order to calm down his tongue. "So you're suggesting I fly after them, is that it?"

"Pretty much. Unless you don't want to. I should have the first batch of antidote ready in just a few minutes. You could be cured now, if you'd rather."

"Yes, I think I'll go with that," Denmark said sourly.

"As you wish. Poor Netherlands, though. Poor Germany, come to think of it. Won't he be devastated when he snaps out of it and realizes he ganked one of his good friends. Oh, would you listen to me. 'When he snaps out of it.' It's more like _if_ at this point. Once the mind starts to go, it's usually not long before the transformation is irreversible. Isn't that fascinating?"

Denmark's stomach lurched a little, maybe due to all the hastily gulped cola…or maybe because he had come to a fork in the road and both paths looked pretty appalling. On the one hand—he could take the antidote and bid farewell to his disgusting insect accoutrements…and with no one left who could properly chase him down, the German eagle would almost certainly wreak havoc on the Netherlands (_again_, he reminded himself with an extra dose of fretting). On the other hand—he could instead _embrace_ said disgusting accoutrements, betraying everything he stood for where butterflies were concerned, and try to stop it…and maybe not even succeed, _and_ risk passing the point of no return himself.

"I fucking hate this so much," he said, as if addressing whatever mischievous deity had engineered the situation in the first place. But no self-respecting mischievous deity ever stoops to the indignity of _deus ex machina_, so he was on his own.

The machine went _ding_. "Done!" said Austria. He bustled for a bit and then held up a syringe filled with luminous purple liquid. "Hold out your arm!"

On the other _other_ hand, Denmark decided, there's no such thing as waiting too long to let a mad scientist stick a needle full of glowing weird-colored gunk in you. "Actually…hold that thought," he said. "Just…just catch up to us as fast you can, okay?"

"Can do!" Austria chirped.

Denmark faced the direction the other two had gone and slowly unfurled his wings. A gentle breeze blew, stirring his antennae. The grass of the park looked almost day-glo to his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out again. With a quiet groan of distress, he began to flap. Little by little, he rose off the ground. He was airborne…and tasting bile, just a tad. Cola-flavored bile. Yummy.

It just wasn't _natural_, flying. The fact that a great many things in nature can fly was…well, it was the _point_, wasn't it?

Behind him, Austria broke into applause. "Ooh, very nice! Now soar free, little butterfly! Ride the wind like the blithe spirit that you are!"

"Douchebucket," Denmark muttered. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he leaned forward and took off.

Denmark learned something about butterflies that day. They may look wispy and lazy as they flutter over the blossoms on a summer's day, but when they have a reason, they can _haul ass_. He zoomed through the park, weaving through stands of trees like a champion slalom skier (Norway would have been so proud), his antennae leading the way. All the while, he cringed in horrified anticipation of the scene of carnage he would find…

…which was why he almost missed the two of them when he did run across them. They were in a standoff. Germany was alternately swooping upon the Netherlands and retreating to the safety of a tree branch. Netherlands was backed up against a horseshoe-shaped hedge too dense to admit him, but he had found a pile of pebbles and was throwing them at Germany every time he got too close. The question hung in the air like the little downy puffs Germany shed with every backpedal: what would happen when the rocks ran out?

Denmark came to a screeching halt in midair. "Guys!" he called.

"Little busy!" the Netherlands growled, hurling another stone.

"Germany, snap out of it!" Denmark pressed. "This isn't you! This is…this is _stupid_! This is not a National Geographic nature special and you are not an apex predator! You're just a regular guy like me! Who likes beer, remember beer? God, I remember beer! Let's go get some more beer like we were doing before Austria showed up!" He realized he was babbling, but he couldn't think of anything intelligent to say.

Germany made another dive. The Netherlands chucked the last of his pebbles, and the magic of "one shot left" helped him land a perfect blow on Germany's head, dazing him. The Netherlands saw his opening and took it, gouging the turf as he tore away. Germany recovered two instants later and gave chase, leaving Denmark no choice but to bring up the rear. (This sort of thing is why ecologists dropped the "food chain" concept in favor of a more complex and holistic view.)

Right away, Denmark saw that the Netherlands had made the wrong choice. He was built for the lightning dash, not prolonged running, and the first chase followed by an interlude of flinging rocks had taken a lot out of him already. After ten seconds or so, his lead started to shrink. Germany paced his own flight, not catching up _too_ quickly in case it was a ruse. Denmark calculated that he had less than a minute to think of some way to stop it all, or at least buy more time…assuming there was enough left to be bought.

_What do I do? How do you stop a hungry predator in its tracks when there's prey right in front of it?_

The seconds ticked away. Germany closed in with devastating slowness. And then…and then Denmark thought the unthinkable thought. _Okay…how would a _butterfly_ stop a hungry predator in its tracks?_ And _then_ the memory of Fritz's shocking neck-frill popped into his mind, and the answer came to him.

After all, what's the point of flying bright colors if you don't use them to warn anyone?

Energized by the idea, Denmark poured on the speed, interposed himself between Germany and the Netherlands just as the former was spreading his talons, and flashed his full wingspan, giving his neighbor an eyeful of shimmering Dannebrog. (Four of them, in fact—two large and two small. Tigers don't have a monopoly on fearful symmetry.)

With a shriek that fell somewhere between a human voice and an avian one, Germany pulled up so abruptly that he did a backwards somersault in mid-air. "_Holy shit—Vikings!_" He veered off, shouting "Sound the alarm! Women and children to safety! Ready the bucket chains!" At that point, he brain-dusted himself on a low-hanging tree branch and went tumbling to the ground. He landed flat on his back, splayed out like they were going to trace around him to make a giant coat of arms, and didn't move.

Denmark alighted on the grass. The feeling of solid ground beneath his feet was like a drug. He let himself fall forward so he could hug the earth, and stayed that way until something shook him out of the groove.

It was Austria, arriving…on Fritzback. With a little saddle and everything. It looked every bit as silly as you must be imagining. He pulled up alongside Denmark's head. No one should have to open their eyes after a nice little rest and be looking up the barrel of a Fritz, but life's unfair all over.

"Did you happen to see where the Netherlands went?" Austria was saying. "Oh, never mind, there he is. He appears to be…eating a clover patch. I'll go see if he wants his cure."

"Hey, Denmark?" Germany mumbled as Austria moved off. "I just had the weirdest dream or something. I was hungry and about to get something to eat, when suddenly there was this really _huge_ monster trying to eat me instead, and…I think it was _you_. What do you think that means?"

Denmark pushed himself up on his elbows. "Probably that you want to shag me," he said, mostly out of habit. "It's okay, I get that all the time."

Germany sat up and gave Denmark a look that was equal parts bewildered and disturbed. "I don't know who's worse, you or Austria." He suddenly made a loud groan. "_Fuck_…it wasn't a dream, was it?"

"'Fraid not," said Denmark. "But it's okay. I'm sure Netherlands will forgive you."

"But how will I ever forgive _myself_?"

"You don't have to," said Denmark in a flash of inspiration, "because you _weren't_ yourself. Think about it. Austria had to tinker with your DNA in order to make you want to hurt another country. Doesn't that tell you something? And any minute now, we'll be cured and you won't have to worry."

Shortly, Austria came traipsing back. No longer in a hurry, he had traded Fritz's saddle for a retractable leash, and the hybrid thing was bounding back and forth, exploring everything within five meters of his creator. The Netherlands trailed a few steps behind, rubbing his arm. He _had_ arms again, unambiguously, and his ears were shrinking while they watched.

"The anti-serum is a complete success!" said Austria. "And there's plenty for all! I'm almost sad about that, to tell the truth—it would have been fascinating to see the transformations through to the finish."

"Ugh," said Germany. "Fascinating for you, maybe. I take it back, Denmark. Austria is definitely worse."

Austria brought out the syringe and copped a childlike voice. "Awwww…sounds like somebody took his grumpy pills but forgot to take his cheerful vitamins!" Nobody said anything in response. There was too great a chance that he wasn't speaking metaphorically. He injected Germany, who immediately began molting. With a squeal of pure delight, Austria started collecting the feathers.

"Hey!" said Denmark. "You're not done here!"

"Sor-_ry_," Austria pouted. "Good grief, everyone's cranky today. You complained when I changed you and now you're complaining when I'm about to change you back." But he gave Denmark his dose of the anti-serum before he went back to picking up Germany's shed feathers. Over the next few minutes, Denmark's wings and antennae dried up and fell out, and Austria claimed those too.

"I don't suppose there's anything I could say," said Germany, rubbing the bridge of his nose (no longer a beak), "that would get you to _not_ use those in disturbing experiments?"

"Probably not," said Austria. "Thanks for helping me out, guys. It's nice to know I can rely on you! I'd stick around, but now that Fritz is back in custody, I have plans for him. Big plans! _Seeeeecret_ plans! MWAHAHAHAHAH! See you later." He sauntered away southward, humming a lively and extremely complex tune that was to the Western canon of classical music what Fritz was to a petting zoo.

"My head hurts," Germany sighed.

"I know a _great_ cure for a headache," the Netherlands averred.

"You're thinking of glaucoma," said Germany.

"That can cause headaches."

"Let's just pick up where we left off back at your place," Denmark suggested. "We had, what, two cases left? There's your 'cheerful vitamins.'"

"I can get behind that," said Germany.

They picked themselves up and set out, following the signs that read "Parkausgang." They might as well have read "Normalität."

"_Finally_ the nightmare is over," Denmark opined.

The Netherlands took a big drag from his joint. "Maybe, maybe not," he said profoundly. "I heard this thing from China once…how do you know you're not really a butterfly dreaming you're a man? Your mind's blown now, right?"

"Shut up, Netherlands."

The End…

…_Or Is It?_

_Two Days Later (A Brief Epilogue)…_

Norway knocked on Denmark's front door, treasure in hand.

"I'm telling you, he's not going to want it," said Sweden.

"I'm still going to make the offer," said Norway.

The door opened slowly, revealing Denmark clad only in boxer shorts and holding a bag of ice to his head.

"We're back," said Norway. "Sorry, is this a bad time? I'll just drop this off then. I found this nice little pinecone at our campsite, and I thought you might like it."

Denmark glared. "Do_ not_," he said, "talk to me about butterflies." Then he shut the door again, quietly for the sake of his head but with a certain flourish that indicated he was slamming it in spirit.

"I didn't mention butterflies," said Norway.

"I told you he wouldn't want it," said Sweden.

The End (for real)

* * *

_A/N: This story was something of an experiment—I wanted to see if I could take a character that Humon had depicted **once** and develop him for my own nefarious purposes, while remaining consistent with that one appearance. How did I do? Reviews are **most** appreciated—this is a small fandom and those scant few of us writing for it can use all the feedback we can get!_


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